


if love could prevail

by AlexiaBlackbriar13



Series: celestial devotion [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels, Angel Oliver, Angst, Broken Oliver, Child Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fatal Injuries, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Murder, Reunions, Serious Injuries, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Trigger Warnings, True Love, Unhappy Ending, Winged Oliver, Wingfic, major character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13
Summary: The final showdown between Oliver and the Angels over his stolen Soulmate occurs, with devastating consequences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are, at the end of the line.
> 
> Have tissues prepared. Maybe a cup of cocoa or tea.
> 
>  **Major Trigger Warnings:** Please do not read if serious injuries, death, child death, suicidal thoughts and suicide trigger you. Seriously. Don't. Please put your mental health first. (I didn't, and ended up having a minor depression episode writing this, so please don't put yourself at risk)  
>  **Major Warning:** : God and his Angels are serious douches in this fic. Please don't read if this is going to upset/anger/bother you.
> 
> Hope you enjoy?

* * *

_“I’m sorry, Oliver. Felicity Smoak is dead.”_

Oliver shook his head. The world felt distant around him. He didn’t feel as if this was real. Felicity couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t possible. She was his Soulmate, the love of his life; he would have _known_ if she was dead. Swallowing, his wings trembling, he whispered, “You’re lying. That’s not true. She’s alive.”

Gabriel shot him a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry, brother. But she is dead.”

“No. You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are!” he shouted. “I would have sensed it, I would have -” He cut himself off, gasping for breath as he hyperventilated. Falling to his knees, Gabriel had to start forward to prevent the Angel from toppling off the edge of cliff, wincing when Oliver’s green wings flared furiously at his touch. “Where is she?”

“In Heaven,” Gabriel answered quietly. “Her body and Soul were brought up there by Roy. Father thought you’d like to say goodbye.”

“This was his doing,” Oliver seethed. His anger was overwhelming and made him shake all over, and his Grace was rippling with unease. Every single inch of the Angel’s being had been created in God’s name, to worship the Father, and yet now, he felt nothing but resentment for him. Resentment that in God making some sort of perverted point to Oliver, which he didn’t know nor understand, the love of his life, an innocent Soul, had perished. “Take me to her, Gabriel.”

The Archangel’s silver wings bristled and he looked wary as he nodded, replying, “Alright.”

The journey to Heaven was short, yet tense. Oliver’s head was swimming and his chest was tight and aching, so everything passed by him in a flash of light and blurred images. He didn’t even notice they had slipped out of the human plane and were entering the Gates until the hushed murmured of other Angels surrounded him on all sides, and he found himself fluttering down to the ground in front of the steps to the throne room. Extremely cautious, Oliver summoned his bow and quiver as he slowly tucked his green wings in, blue eyes darting around the space as his brothers and sisters glared and stared at him from the sides of the Axis Mundi, their plain, dull grey and cream wings quivering in his presence. Gabriel cleared his throat, and Oliver turned back to him as his older brother motioned to the steps. Bracing himself and squaring his shoulders, Oliver followed the Archangel up the marble stairs, hesitantly stepping through the marvellous archway framing the rune covered, adorned mahogany doors.

The sight he was met with sent him reeling, and Oliver burst into a sprint with a desperate gasp of, “Felicity!”, but was yanked backwards by two seraphs that raced forwards to restrain him.

Felicity Smoak, alive and appearing unharmed, was kneeling on the gold lined tiles of the throne room, an Angel standing with a hand on her shoulder, holding her down. She looked confused and absolutely terrified by what was going on, but she was _alive_. She wasn’t dead. Oliver had been right - Gabriel had been lying.

“Oliver?” she whispered, eyes filled with tears and she struggled under the Angel’s hand, trying to stagger to her feet. With a sharp growl, the Angel increased the pressure on her shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain, collapsing back down.

“Don’t touch her!” Oliver shouted furiously, fighting the seraphs, snarling when they grabbed at his flight feathers for a firmer grip. Turning to Gabriel, he hissed out at him, enraged, “I knew you were lying to me.”

Gabriel looked helpless, and his expression was like a kicked puppy, his wings drooping. “I’m sorry. I had my orders.”

“Your orders?” Oliver repeated, baring his teeth. “Orders from who?”

Gabriel made a funny face and vanished before he could answer, fleeing the room in a flurry of silver feathers.

Biting off his annoyance in a growl, Oliver wheeled around to face the Angel next to Felicity, snapping, “Let her go! She’s an innocent Soul, you can’t hurt her, it’s against the Accords!”

“She is not innocent by any measure.”

Oliver stilled momentarily with a shudder running through his green wings as the Archangel Michael appeared. One of the seraphs restraining him yanked his bow out of his grip, and his quiver off his back whilst he was distracted. Michael swung his sword merrily within his hand as he approached, shining white wings rippling beautifully as they flared. Felicity immediately began shying away instinctively as he came closer, cringing with her eyes closed as she quaked in fear, the power and aura of the Archangel too much for her. Oliver, however, was one of the rare younger Angels who had learnt to tolerate Michael’s presence, so he wasn’t afraid of addressing him.

“Let her go, Michael, please,” Oliver begged. “She’s _innocent!_ ”

“She seduced an Angel to fall in love with her,” Michael replied flatly, walking over to the shaking blonde, which caused Oliver to roar in fury, thrashing within his constraints. “She induced one of the Father’s soldiers to commit a heinous crime. She is guilty, Oliver, and you have provoked that sentencing, whether you like it or not.”

Shaking his head, Oliver finally managed to yank himself out of the seraphs’ grips, but he paused, knowing that attempting to dart forwards to Felicity or to engage Michael in a battle, as he was itching to, would only cause the Angels to seize him again. When he didn’t move beyond taking two steps forwards and spreading his wings intimidatingly, they let him be. “Michael, this is _ridiculous_ ,” he growled. “ _I_ broke Angel Law, _I’m_ the guilty one. I fell in love with Felicity, that’s on _me_. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Yes, she does.”

“And how do _YOU_ know that?!” Oliver yelled.

“Because I told him so.”

The aura of the room completely changed, and immediately all the other Angels around them bowed, shivering due to the mighty presence of the Lord. Felicity gave a small whimper, crumbling down into herself as she cowered away from the mighty Deity. He desperately wanted to go and comfort her, but his muscles wouldn’t respond and he was frozen in place. Whilst before, Oliver had felt nothing but respect and love for the Father... now, he felt nothing but powerful resent and hatred.

“Peace,” God ordered, turning to the Angel next to Felicity and the seraphs behind Oliver and ordering, “Release her. Leave. Nobody is to enter this room.”

“Yes, Father,” one of the Angels murmured, bowing again shortly before leaving the room. The seraphs departed swiftly also, and Oliver, the Archangel, Felicity and the Father were left alone, in an echoing, frigid silence.

“I don’t understand,” Oliver said lowly. “You condemned Felicity? Why?”

Instead of the usual warmth and love he sensed when around the Father, he felt judgement. Coldness. It was so unlike how he’d last seen Him, when He’d allowed the archer to return to Earth as a human being to be with Felicity. “Loving a human being is a Sin,” God answered tonelessly. “However, it was she who manipulated your feelings towards her.”

Oliver’s heart was thudding within his chest, shaking as he tried to accept what he was hearing. “No, this is - but you said… you said it wasn’t a sin for an angel to fall in love. You told me that you were _proud_ of me for loving Felicity. ‘I am proud to hear that one of my Sons has felt such deep emotions towards one of my creations.’ That’s what you said! And you essentially gave me your blessing to be with Felicity.”

“You should show some respect!” Michael shouted, wings bristling furiously.

God raised his hand. “It’s alright, Michael. Oliver is simply confused and frustrated.”

“I don’t understand why you said what you said,” Oliver shook his head.

For the first time ever, God appeared irritated. “It was a Test, Oliver.”

He swallowed. “What?”

The look that was fixed on him made the Angel squirm uncomfortably, not liking how this seemed to be going. “Oh, you poor thing. Oliver, did you really think that you were the first Angel to fall in love with a human? Why do you think that the Laws exist in the first place? As I told you before, Oliver, humanity is meant to be loved and praised by my Angels. But loving from afar is different from falling in love.”

“Millions of years ago, we started to find that Guardian Angels were falling in love with their human charges,” Michael continued, in a sombre tone. “And as an Angel’s capacity to love a human grew, their devotion to the Father and their duties waned. Their ties to Heaven began to weaken. Falling in love with a human is forbidden, Oliver, because if an Angel starts to devote their life to anything other than a Divine deity, their Grace will fade away until they become human. We were losing too many of our warriors.”

“Forbidding human-Angel relationships was the only solution,” God said, with a grim smile. “And yet, we found that occasionally, the strong pull between an Angel and their charge could not be ignored. It is extremely rare, but every trillion years or so, a human and an Angel will become Soul-Grace bonded. Soulmates. Keeping them apart once they met would destroy them. Every attempt of separating them resulted in death, for both of the parties.”

Michael offered him a sad smile, his white wings flaring and tucking as he slowly approached the younger Angel, who was now standing, shell-shocked and trying to accept what he was hearing. Processing all of this new information was difficult for Oliver, and he was so worried about Felicity, who was still shaking on her knees, silent, a few metres away, that he couldn’t think straight.

“You were our Experiment,” the Archangel told him in a doleful voice. “Father and I noted that when you were transformed into an Angel, it was written within your Soul that Felicity Smoak was your Soulmate. We allowed that trait to continue into your Grace, to allow the Experiment to go forth. We lied to you, and told you that Starling City was your charge as a Guardian, when in fact, it was Felicity. You were already Bound to her, we wished to see how breaking that Guardian-human bond between you would affect the situation.” Turning to her, Michael brushed his fingers over her shoulders, and Oliver bristled protectively when she whimpered, blue eyed slamming shut. He pulled away before Oliver could think to attack, however. “It didn’t matter, in the end. The two of you ended up meeting, and getting together, anyway. It was Fate, and Father may negotiate with Her, but She is not easily swayed. We decided that we would test you. Offer you a choice. You could go back and live with your Soulmate, revel in your love for her whilst in a temporary human form. But once your Grace was restored, we wanted to see how you would react. Whether you would listen to the Instinct ingrained into your very being as an Angel, and return to Father, to your duties, or disobey and stay with the human.”

Oliver was trembling by this point, his Grace in turmoil and mind a storm as he whispered, “So I failed?”

“I’m afraid so,” God smiled.

Worrying his lip, Oliver raised a shaky hand to motion towards his Soulmate. “Alright, so I failed your Test. I’m a terrible Angel. That doesn’t mean that Felicity is guilty. Humans can’t compel an Angel to fall in love with them.”

“No, they can’t,” Michael agreed. “And we probably would have allowed to her escape from this scot-free, if it weren’t for the baby.”

Oliver’s brain short-circuited.

_The baby._

_If it weren’t for the baby._

_THE BABY._

Felicity was pregnant. With his child. His fears about her being taken by the Angels because she was pregnant with a half human, half Angel child were correct - he had thought he was being overly paranoid and stupidly worrying over nothing, that the chance of a Nephilim coming into existence was too low, but now...

“Felicity?” he whispered, edging closer to her, his voice shaking.

She looked terrified, tears in her eyes as she murmured, “Oliver.”

His wings quivered. “You’re…?”

“I don’t - I don’t know.”

Oliver shot a pleading look towards God and Michael, and with a solemn expression on his face, the Father gave a short nod, giving him permission to go forwards to her. Oliver burst into a frantic sprint, wings streaming out beside him and giving a quick beat to hurry himself along before he fell to his knees and skidded the last metre, almost crashing into Felicity. Flinging his arms around her and yanking Felicity into a secure embrace, Oliver released a relieved sob when her beautiful, pure Soul brushed up against his Grace. She collapsed onto his shoulder with a barely suppressed whine, clutching onto his jacket and burying her head into his neck.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed quietly, one of his hands rubbing calming circles over her back whilst the other went to the nape of her neck, his fingertips massaging her spine. “It’s okay, I’m here now.”

“I’m so sorry,” Felicity choked out. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t gone to the Queens, if I hadn’t looked into your past -”

“This would have happened anyway,” God cut in, his voice falsely kind and comforting. “This was inevitable, my dear, your actions in investigating Oliver’s past life did not catalyse this.”

Oliver lifted his gaze to heave a snarl towards his Father, and whilst Michael growled back furiously at his disrespect, God just stared at him with an impassive expression. Turning back to his Soulmate, Oliver hesitantly dropped a hand over her stomach, swallowing. “Did you know -”?

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head firmly, biting her lip. “I had no idea, and I promise, if I’d known, I would’ve told you. Is - I mean, is it even true? Am I…” Her voice broke as she trailed off, eyes wide with fear and anticipation.

Centering his Grace once again, Oliver gently prodded and took a sharp intake of air when a new, shining tiny Soul nudged warily back at him. But not just Soul - half Soul, half Grace. His and Felicity’s child. Eager to get to know this new little creation, he wove his Grace towards it, and it reacted instantly, grazing his Grace with such childlike curiously that it made him grin tearfully.

“You always were quite the anomaly,” Michael sighed from behind him, his voice so irritating that Oliver tried to swat it aside like an annoying wasp, still intrigued by the Soul of his and Felicity’s baby. Felicity was running her shaking hands through his hair, eyes closed as Oliver stroked against her stomach, fascinated. “Angels aren’t meant to be particularly virile, but you, well… you managed to get your Soulmate pregnant within a month, without even trying.”

“Shut up!” Oliver barked, rearing upwards and snapping his wings out so they towered intimidatingly, the dark green shimmering with the power of his enraged Grace.

Michael drew his sword, white wings flaring, but God reached out and caught his wrist, levelling a stern look at the Archangel as he ordered quietly, “Stand down.”

Felicity gently took a hold of his chin and turned him back towards her. “Oliver,” she whispered. “Is it true?”

A heartbroken, awful little smile broke out onto his face and he nodded, replying in a thick voice, “You’re going to be a mommy.”

Felicity’s Soul flared with light and happiness and she clapped her hand to her mouth with a small noise of shock, but Oliver could sense her joy at this news, despite the underlying terror and confusion she was feeling. She brushed her fingers over Oliver’s hand, and shivered when she seemed to shiver at the sensation of touching the combined power of the Angel’s Grace, and the baby’s Soul.

Michael ruined the moment, however, when he interrupted casually, “Not for very long, unfortunately.”

Horror flashed over Felicity’s face. “What?!”

“Michael,” Oliver hissed, alarmed by his dark expression.

“Come now, Oliver,” Michael frowned. “That baby is a Nephilim. You know that the creation of Nephilim is forbidden. That child must be destroyed, before it is born.”

“It’s a _baby_ ,” Felicity protested weakly, staggering to her feet as Oliver stood beside her, arms wrapped around her waist protectively and wings arching to surround her.

“It has the potential to be a monster,” Michael informed her. “And therefore, it cannot be allowed to live. I’m very sorry,” he offered, but the dispassionate tone of his voice told Oliver that he wasn’t sorry at all, and in fact, would quite happily do the job.

Felicity’s hands tightened on Oliver’s forearms as he asked, terrified, “You’re going to _kill_ our baby?”

“It’s nothing personal, Miss Smoak,” God said, inclining his head. “Nephilim cannot be allowed to exist, for the sake of the rest of Creation. They’re simply too dangerous to be allowed to live. Your child, and Oliver’s child, is an Abomination. Regrettably, I must inform you that for us to kill the child, you will also have to die.”

Within a millisecond, Oliver had himself angled in front of Felicity protectively, his wings flared to block her from sight of the Father and the Archangel as he unleashed a feral snarl, although he was reassured she was still there by her trembling fingers tracing the length of his spine through his jacket. “Kill the baby, if you must,” Oliver forced himself to say, despite the striking pain and disgust he felt towards himself at that statement. “But do not lay a _feather_ on Felicity!”

“We can’t kill the Nephilim without killing her,” Michael said, his brow marring with a vexed irritation as he crossed his arms. “You know this, Oliver, when Father created the Nephilim, he named them Untouchable by His Hand.”

“A severe error, I shall forever lament,” God sighed. “Alas, due to that trait, the only way to destroy an unborn Nephilim is to kill its Host - the mother. Divine Law may say that the Angels cannot harm innocent human beings, but since Miss Smoak is carrying the Abomination, I’m afraid that makes her life forfeit.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll make it painless,” Michael reassured, as if that would lessen the blow of them telling the human that she was going to die, and there was no way around it. When Felicity made a sort of choking, gasping sort of noise, tearing up once again, he tried to soothe, “It’ll be just like falling asleep.”

As soon as the Archangel took a step forwards towards them, Oliver dragged Felicity backwards, roaring, “STAY AWAY FROM HER!”

Michael’s somewhat awful attempt at a sympathetic and warm expression vanished within a few seconds of him maintaining it, replaced with annoyance as he snapped, “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be for her, little brother.”

“You touch her and I will flay you!” Oliver threatened, but there was a fearful shake in his voice and a tremor in his wings, that Michael easily saw through, his impatience only growing.

“Oliver, step aside.”

“NO!”

“I will not hesitate to slay you also, if you stand in my way,” Michael warned, drawing his sword.

Spitting in the Archangel’s face, Oliver growled, “Oh, please, _try_. I can best Gabriel _and_ Raphael in a fight, Michael. You try and hurt my Soulmate and I will end you.”

“Boys, please,” God sighed, as if he was a father trying to break up a fight between two unruly sons. Which, he essentially was. “Oliver, just stand aside and let Michael be done with it.”

“She is not an _it_!” Oliver shouted. All whilst this was happening, he was desperately searching for an exit from the throne room as subtly as possible, hoping that maybe, _just maybe_ , if they were fast enough, he could fly them both out of there and back down to Earth. “Her name is Felicity Smoak and you are condoning her _murder!_ ”

“For Father’s sake, why are you always so overdramatic?” Michael shook his head.

The split second opportunity for an escape came, with Michael turning to God with an exasperated look and the Father shrugging with a tired sigh, and with the both of them momentarily distracted, Oliver whipped around and crushed Felicity to his chest, picking up her as if she weighed nearly nothing and sprinting towards the doors. He heard Michael’s faint yell of anger behind them as they burst through them, his wings beating in a frenzy as they were met by two guard Angels, who instantly drew their swords. Pushing his Soulmate behind him, Oliver quickly disarmed one of them, yanking the sword from his grip and rendering him unconscious. Decades of training with Gabriel were paying off - none of these Angels were a match for him. He turned to search for Felicity frantically, just in time to see her grab one of the golden torch holders from the steps and whack the other Angel over the head with it, to his astonishment.

She looked terrified, but there was a determined gleam in her blue eyes that made his heart soar. Sheer human instinct to survive, and a mother’s courage to protect her child, were kicking in. “How do we get out of here?”

“We need to get to the Gates on foot. All the other Angels will be flying, but I know a route that’s inaccessible by air,” Oliver threw her way, gazing over her shoulder to see Michael bearing down upon them, looking absolutely furious. “Come on, we have to go!”

Her hand snaked into his, and they began to run. Oliver tried to keep his wings held as tightly to his back as possible, and made sure that she was slightly in front of him, so that any snick of Michael’s sword from behind if the Archangel caught up with them would hit him, not her. He was thrown for a few seconds by the heat that seemed to spark between them at the skin on skin contact, but he reckoned that was because this was the first time he was seeing his Soulmate again after nearly a week of being separated from her. They were running for their lives, but he was still completely relieved to see her. Alive. Well. Unharmed. _Pregnant._

“Oliver, you’re lagging!” she complained in a pant, tugging his hand urgently.

“Sorry,” he said, and he let out a short laugh.

“This is not the time to be laughing, mister!” Felicity scolded, nearly tripping over as Oliver guided them to jump down from the Axis Mundi onto a small human Soul Path running just below it. “We’re being chased by Angels that want to kill me and our baby!”

He laughed again. Hearing those words _our baby_ coming from her mouth sent thrills through his Grace, making his wings preen.

“Oh my god, now is _not_ the right time to go all dopey and loopy on me, Oliver!”

“Sorry, I just -” He grabbed her arm and yanked her back, hiding them briefly as the corner they were about to take was passed by an Angel Patrol. The result of this was that their faces were placed inches away from each other, and Oliver could see the amusement masking the fear in her eyes. “We’re having a baby.”

She flashed him an amazing, gleeful grin. “Yes, we are.” The grin disappeared as quickly as it had arrived as she screamed, “LOOK OUT!”

The sword swung a mere inch from Oliver’s right wing and the Angel just reacted, whipping around and lashing out with his leg to land a solid kick to Michael’s chest, sending the snarling Archangel sprawling to the ground.

“RUN!” he shouted.

They managed to make it three metres from the Gates before Michael caught up with them again. This time, Oliver was armed and prepared. Placing himself in between the Archangel and Felicity, with a fierce battle cry, he launched himself at Michael. Their wings were a flurry of white and dark green, feathers scraping against one another and muscles spasming violently as they beat their wings, swords clashing. Michael began to show some strain after he and Oliver exchanged blows after a minute or two, obviously worn down by the younger, fitter angel’s fighting style. His confidence growing, Oliver began more reckless decisions about his moves, slashing out with the sword and carrying out some fancier moves to show off, nearly disarming Michael twice, but failing. He wished he had his bow with him - he would have had the Archangel on the ground within half a minute. The Angel paid for his recklessness, however, when Michael landed a slash to his right wing.

Howling in pain, Oliver staggered backwards, hacking outwards with his blade. It nicked Michael’s wrist, and the Archangel bared his teeth in enraged fury, looming over him. Realising her Soulmate was in danger as Oliver sent out signals of pain and fear, Felicity darted forwards and kicked out to the back of Michael’s knees. The Archangel collapsed partially, wrestling the human to the ground as she struggled and screamed. Overcome with a ferocious need and want to protect his Soulmate and unborn child, Oliver rose and seized Michael by the shoulders, dragging him off Felicity and onto the ground, stabbing forwards with his sword and leaving it embedded within Michael’s left wing. The Archangel screeched in agony, writhing, but he was down, and wouldn’t be standing up again to fight. Oliver had won this round.

More Angels were coming. Oliver could hear the beating of wings in the distance, and the harsh clamour of angry voices. Without a second thought, he launched himself at Felicity without even looking at her, wrapping himself around her. Picking her up, the Angel ran out of the gates before launching into flight, flying faster than he’d ever flown before, travelling through the planes faster than the speed of light before he broke the barrier and reached Earth. Clutching his Soulmate to his chest, Oliver flared his wings in triumph at their escape.

It was nearing dawn, the fringes of Starling City’s horizon a strange midnight blue hue, tinged with green, orange and pink as the Sun’s rays reflected over the clouds and the sea. Gliding down to the roof of the nearest building, he managed a somewhat shaky landing with his slashed right wing, but Oliver considered it a personal victory that they didn’t crash.

Once they firmly had their feet on the ground, Oliver released Felicity, elation streaking through him as he said excitedly, “We did it, we got away, you’re safe now, Felicity. You and the baby, you’re both safe. We got out of there, we’re okay now, my love, I can’t -”

He went still.

Felicity was standing barely a metre away from him, her arm wrapped around her abdomen, which had Michael’s Archangel blade half sticking out of it, having been withdrawn slightly. Blood stained her shirt and her hands, slowly and hypnotically dripping onto the floor, forming a dark crimson pool underneath her.

Pale and breathing hard, Felicity croaked out a pained, heartbroken, “Oliver -” before her knees gave way beneath her.

Oliver caught her before she hit the floor, but the moment her blood came into contact with his hands, and the sword’s handle brushed against his palm, the shock and overwhelming horror struck him. “No,” he choked. “ _NO!_ Felicity...”

“I’m s-sorry,” she whispered.

His heart skipped a beat and he was filled with a suffocating sense of failure, guilt and panic when he felt her Soul flicker. Saw the burning, shining light within her dim, fading out.

Felicity was dying. In his arms.

“It’s okay,” he said desperately. “We’ll - we can get you to a hospital. It’s okay, Felicity, you’re gonna be fine, we’ll get you to a hospital and you’ll be alright!”

She whimpered, her head slumping down onto his shoulder as she moaned, “Oliver…”

“It’s okay! You’re gonna be okay!”

“Oliver.” Her voice was quiet, and dammit, she sounded so _weak_ , and she was losing blood with every second passing, her precious life draining away within his very arms. “It’s… It’s not gonna be okay, is it?”

“No, it will be!”

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, her hand shakily rising as she somehow, miraculously, choked back her pain to try and comfort him. “Oliver, my love. I’ve been stabbed in the abdomen. S-Sure, the sword’s keeping it plugged up a little bit, but my stomach’s p-probably ruptured as well as my intestines and my l-liver and my kidneys and…”

“The hospital can fix that!”

She was freely crying now, unable to support her own weight. The blood just kept on pouring out of the wound; _dammit there was so much blood._ “I’m dying.”

“No,” he sobbed.

“Oh god, O-Oliver, the b-baby… Is the baby okay?”

No. The baby wasn’t okay. His Grace brushed against empty nothingness. Their child’s Soul had vanished. The baby was dead. Probably had been killed when Michael stabbed the sword into her stomach, slicing through her womb. The pain must have showed on his face, because Felicity’s head rolled sideways and her eyes closed as she made a weak, distressed noise.

“Oh god,” Felicity moaned.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, anguished by their shared loss. The loss of their child. Their baby, who had been murdered by Michael’s sword. By their own Uncle. Felicity groaned again, Soul glitching in such a pattern that alarm skittered through him. “Stay with me, hun, please stay with me,” he begged.

She looked so scared, and it was breaking his heart in two. He wished he could go back to that moment and take Michael’s wrath for her. She’d obviously been hit when she had kicked his knees out and he had tackled her to the floor, when Felicity had been trying to defend Oliver. Michael had stabbed his sword through her. That was why he’d so easily surrendered. Oliver might have won that fight between them, but as a result, he was losing the person most precious to him. Felicity was dying, because she had saved him. _She was dying for him._

“I love you,” she gasped, and then a horrible coughing fit wracked her form. Blood spurted from her mouth, staining her lips, and Oliver quickly wiped it away with trembling, numb fingers. “Oliver, I love you, don’t ever forget that.”

“No, it’s -” he shook his head.

“I know that goodbyes are h-hard -”

“Don’t speak,” he pleaded.

“But I’m so glad -”

“Felicity, _stop!_ ”

“That I get to spend my last moments with y-you. With the man I love. My Guardian Angel. My one True Soulmate,” she whispered.

All Oliver could respond with was a guttural, pained sound.

“I love you.”

“I know you do,” he murmured, voice shaking. “I know you love me. I love you too. I love you so much, Felicity.” Her hand on his shoulder went limp. Her head rolled. Dread and hysteria took over. “Felicity? FELICITY!?”

There was no reply.

He would never be able to hear Felicity Smoak’s sweet, kind voice again.

He couldn’t let go of her body, sobs shaking his entire form and his wings withering, Grace aching and stinging. Oliver didn’t even care about his wings slowly changing to a deep, dismal, mournful midnight, as he held his Soulmate’s lifeless form in his arms, sinking down to lie on his back with her cradled to his chest as he cried.

He released her body just as the Sun broke the horizon and dawn was upon them.

Him. There was no them anymore.

And without her, there was no him either.

Oliver didn’t even realise what he was doing until he had gently extracted Michael’s Archangel blade from Felicity’s stomach and had it aimed at his own heart, the grief and the pain and the agony so smothering that he just wanted it to _end_.

Angels could die, if killed with the right weapon. An Archangel’s weapon would decimate his Grace, transforming it back into its original Soul form. He would never be able to resurrect. But he didn’t care. He had started this journey of self discovery and love with Felicity, meeting so many wonderful human beings: Diggle, Lyla, baby Sara… He’d even reunited with his old family. It was only right that his journey ended with her as well.

Without her, he was already dead inside.

Might as well finish the job, right?

Kneeling next to his Soulmate’s broken form, Oliver closed his eyes and absolved himself from sins. He spread his wings to full span, and aimed the blade. With a sharp intake of breath, he pushed the blade into his heart, before withdrawing it with steady hands. His blood began to join his Soulmate’s, dripping to add more to the crimson pool.

The agony was painstaking, but nothing hurt more than the emotional trauma of having his Soulmate and child die in his arms. Oliver curled himself around Felicity’s form, weakly wrapping them both up in his black wings, thinking that maybe, if his last purpose on this Earth was to keep Felicity’s dead form warmer for slightly longer, he had lived a good life.

His life slipped away from him in a flash, but it didn’t matter.

They were meant to be Soulmates. Together forever. Life partners.

Oliver didn’t exist without Felicity.

And he wouldn’t have to.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

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